Blue & Green
by Lupe Fiasco
Summary: Chloe's pretty sure her life is falling apart: her dad is getting remarried, her best friend doesn't see her as anything than a friend, and she's getting stalked and harassed by a pyscho. Normal teenager stuff. Chlerek.
1. Chapter 1

Blue &amp; Green

01

"She did not know that the wolf was a wicked sort of animal and she was not afraid of him."

It had been raining heavily the night before, soaking the ground with water, making it hard to walk on. Throw in the frigid New York temperature, low fifties, and it was a dangerous combination for those with balance problems.

Chloe Saunders tugged her blood-red hoodie tighter around her shivering frame as she stomped her feet, mud sucking at her boots.

"Why does your dad live so far away in the woods?" asked the tall, dark-haired girl beside her, squinting up into the bare branches.

"Tori, I don't know. My mom..." Chloe said, brushing her curls away from her face as she peered down the muddy trail.

"That doesn't mean you can take off," Tori grumbled, crossing her arms over her perky but prominent breasts. "Well, I've gotta go. I'm with Diane this weekend," she said with a curl of her lip and turned, trotting away. "Be careful," she hollered.

Chloe smiled and waved back. "I will!" But as Tori's jerky running figure grew smaller and smaller, she felt a sharp wave of fear and the prickle that someone was watching her closely. She turned and she caught a glimpse of a deer bolting away.

Her cheeks heated. _Don't be stupid_, she told herself, _it's just your imagination. _Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, gripping her backpack straps, and headed down the long, winding path.

As her feet took her farther and farther from town, she felt a growing sense of dread.

* * *

The sky was darkening as she continued down the trail, feeling her heart beat faster and faster, loud and clear in her ears. Twigs snapped and bare branches rustled, the sound dry and frightening.

_It's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing, _she chanted as she picked up the pace, keeping her eyes on the trail. Suddenly, she ran hard into something.

Strong, hot arms encircled her.

She let out a shrill scream and flailed her arms wildly.

"Calm down, Jesus, I won't hurt you," sighed a familiar voice.

Chloe tilted her head back and let a smile crawl across her face.

It was Ramon, his dark hair falling in chunks around his high, jutting cheekbones and scraping just shy of his flirty smile. His black leather jacket was damp to the touch and, when she pulled away, she found it was slick with something thick and red.

"Are you—" she began, wide-eyed as she took in his bruised lips, swollen nose, and various cuts and scrapes.

"I'm fine, cupcake," he laughed, patting her head but his swollen lip made his words sound thick.

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes." He ran a hand through his hair. "Where are you off to? It's supposed to rain something horrible tonight," he said, finger tracing a cut on his cheek. "'Sides, isn't this place full of dead critters? Remember _last _time you came into the woods? You scared the entire town shitless by accidentally—"

"Stop!" she shrieked, hand flying to clamp over his mouth. "Don't talk about it or I-I'll…" Her voice wavered.

"Sorry. Slipped my mind." He leaned back, hands tucked into his pockets.

"I'm off to my dad's. Aunt Lauren said he was sick." She shrugged a shoulder, shaking the contents of her tiny backpack.

"Some soup?" He took a place at her side and together; they made their way to her father's house.

* * *

When someone answered the door, Chloe was startled to see a pretty woman with dark eyes.

"Oh," Chloe said, eyes widening.

The woman was very attractive, with lots of robust curves and her breasts nearly spilled out of her shirt, although it wasn't anything risqué. Her dark eyes flittered to Ramon, lowering a bit, and then to Chloe, an elegantly manicured hand reaching to twist a dark copper-brown braid around a finger, a strike contrast against her dark, dark skin.

"Steve?"

Her sweater stretched across her wide hips when she turned back and rose up, revealing a small, circular tattoo on her right hip. It looked like a star intertwined with a sun.

Chloe glanced at Ramon.

He nodded.

So this woman was a werewolf, just like Ramon and Derek.

"What is it, Jacinda?" Chloe's dad called as he walked out of the kitchen, dressed in his worn jeans and a grey cable-knit sweater, looking very healthy and very much happy.

She clenched her jaw. "Aunt Lauren made you soup," she managed to choke out, blinking away the hot tears filling her eyes. "She said you were sick, but I can see that you obviously aren't."

"Sweetie—" Steve looked torn.

"You could've just told me," she said softly. "I would've been happy for you. Did Aunt Lauren know? Does the entire damn town know? How do I, your own _daughter _not know?" Her voice was rising, shriller and shriller, the sound making her ears ring with the ferocity and intensity. The tears made themselves known, spilling down from her eyes and running down her cheeks.

Jacinda stepped forward. "I thought you _did_ know," she murmured in a soft, slight accented voice. She looked genuinely concerned.

"Apparently, no one tells me shit around here!" Chloe spat.

"Language!" Steve hissed.

"Don't act like you care just because your girlfriend's here. Did you tell her about Mom? Did you tell her about _me?_" Her voice cracked, to her growing anger and horror. "Fuck off!" she yelled and threw the bag at him, hearing it crash to the floor when Steve dropped it. Soup spread across the fabric, darkening it.

Chloe turned on her heel and ran.

* * *

"I'm sorry." Those were the first words out of her best friend Derek's mouth when she saw down on the embankment next to him and pressed her face into his bicep.

He gently stroked her hair, letting her cry and run snot all over his arm until she couldn't cry anymore and handed her a crumpled pack of Kleenex.

"Thanks," she muttered as she took one and blew her nose. "I just—I wish he'd told me, you know? Instead of just keeping quiet," she whispered, her voice thick from crying.

Below them was the bank of a little creek and she threw a flat stone angrily into it.

"Maybe he wasn't ready to tell you," he said and she squinted at him.

"I understand _that _but—but—"

"But _what_?" He wrapped a thick, hard arm around her and she sighed, tearing at the clean side of the Kleenex.

She felt a calm wash over her as he rocked them gently; she loved being in his arms, being close to him.

"It's Rae's mom," she blurted.

"Evil bitch Rae who showed up completely drunk and stoned to your mom's funeral?" he whispered.

"Yeah."

They relaxed until he broke the silence.

"Well, _shit_."


	2. Chapter 2

Blue &amp; Green

02

"Man is not man, but a wolf to those he does not know."

Derek's hand felt sweaty and warm against hers as they walked along the path, carefully avoiding the sore subject of her father and Jacinda.

"Can it _get _any muddier?" she asked, wincing as she heard how shrill and whiny her voice sounded. Derek nodded but didn't part his lips to speak. Her head pounded and it felt like a pickaxe being driven into her skull, sharp and incessant. _My dad's marrying the mother of the girl who ruined my mother's funeral, showing up high and stoned as shit. _She squeezed his hand tighter.

"I'm sorry," he said after a minute, holding his arms down to her as he stepped over a half-rotted log. His hands lingered on her waist. "It must be so shitty," he continued, wrapping a hard, warm arm around her shoulders, pressing her firmly into his side, "to find out that way."

She nodded, leaning heavily into his muscular frame.

"Derek?" she asked sleepily, feet dragging; he all but carried her down the path.

"Yeah?" His breath was warm and his voice even warmer.

"Thanks for...being you," she murmured before her eyes closed.

He grunted something like a response.

* * *

When Chloe woke up, she wasn't in her bed. Above her, there was a spotted ceiling that was familiar as hers, except it wasn't hers. Underneath her was a lumpy couch that she was certain wasn't in her house. Blinking hard, she sat up and noticed the light, tan walls, the short carpet, the water-stained coffee table. Definitely not her house.

Photos of a blonde boy, two dark-haired men, and a dark-haired girl confirmed her inkling.

She was in Derek's house; she knew it like the back of her hand. Over the years, Chloe had been there enough that it felt like a home away from home.

A movement to her left made her look that way.

Derek stood in the doorway from the stairs and walked over, carrying a glass of water.

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately, running her hands through her curls and taking the glass from him.

He cleared his throat several times, flopping down beside her.

He'd taken off his bulky black sweatshirt and his boots, she noticed. His t-shirt, no doubt Tori's doing to her brother, hugged his biceps and she found her eyes running over him, all the planes of his face and the hard muscles he hid under baggy shirts.

"You fell asleep. We're at my house, since Lauren's still at the hospital," he told her.

"Oh," was all she said. Quickly, she lowered her head and averted her eyes, instead focusing on the thread on the end of her sleeve that was unraveling.

Derek wrapped his arm around her shoulders, like always, and she sank into his side, feeling tears fill her eyes.

"I'm so _sick _of his shit. He doesn't get to do this," she croaked, burying her face into her hands to hide the crying. "It's like this all the time, and he never tells my _anything_. You think he'd trust me enough to tell me."

He pressed a kiss against her hair and stroked up and down her arm. "He's a total dick. He's probably just acting out. Simon used to do that when he was a kid. Throw things, break stuff to get my dad's attention."

She pulled away from him and scowled. "S-Simon was like seven," she argued.

"So?"

"My dad's like forty-something." Frowning, she placed her head back on his shoulder.

"Maybe...he's moved on."

"Maybe he shouldn't be a total ass and not tell me he's dating Rae's mom. She came to the funeral high as shit! I still hear about it. Lauren complains about her all the time."

They fell into a lapsing silence.

"Chloe?"

She turned, startled, and found her dad standing in the open front door, looking sheepish.

Derek snarled under his breath as he unwound his arm from around her and got to his feet faster than she'd ever seen. His eyes were narrow and dark as he advanced, every muscle in his body rigid.

Steve squeaked in fear and backed up, shifting behind Jacinda.

_He's such a weakling._"Derek, calm down," Chloe sighed and noticed the women on either side of her dad. The smaller of the two was hiding behind him like she didn't want to be seen.

Jacinda stepped forward. "I hope you aren't angry still. I thought he told you-" here she turned and glared at Steve, who rubbed the back of his neck like a schoolboy "-and I apologize that he didn't. I won't put it against you if you are angry, however, but I hope you can look past it and not hate me." The braids hanging around her face clicked with every step.

"Sure," Derek sneered, "make yourself at home. Come _right_ in." He fell back and slumped against the couch, crossing his arms over his massive chest.

"Stop sulking," Chloe said, kicking away the afghan that had been covering her legs, and hitting him lightly on his hip.

He lifted his lip at her.

"Is that Derek Souza?" a new voice asked as the smaller woman stepped out from behind Steve and Jacinda, where she'd been completely obscured. The woman wasn't a woman; it was a girl, with copper skin and dark curls that flounced when she walked.

Chloe was frozen in shock and horror as Rae stepped lightly into the room, her eyes wide with surprise as they took Derek in, scanning him from head to toe.

"Where's...Chloe." It had started out as a question and twisted into a one-worded answer.

Rae's dark eyes, no longer bloodshot, stared at Chloe, drinking her in.

"Shit," the blonde choked out.


	3. Chapter 3

Blue &amp; Green

03

"It is madness for sheep to talk peace with a wolf."

Much to Chloe's surprise, Rae had changed. She wasn't the hurt, crazy girl she'd been years ago, downing every alcoholic beverage in sight and filling her lungs with burning, smoky poison. She was genuinely sweet, although she had her frighteningly sharp moments.

"Bipolar," Jacinda had explained softly, stroking her daughter's coppery braids as Rae shook a bottle.

"Doctor prescribed," she'd said proudly and her smile faltered, something sad igniting in her eyes.

"Why don't you two get to know each other?" Steve suggested, wrapping a possessive arm around the woman who didn't even closely resemble a mother to Chloe.

Shrugging like it didn't matter, the girls left.

"You want to know what changed, don't you?" Rae whispered, flopping down on the couch and Chloe watched her kick off her platform flip flops. "Royce overdosed. It was Halloween and we were all in his basement, smoking some shit he got from a guy named Brady. I don't remember much, except waking up in the bathtub. It was so quiet." Her tan arms wrapped around her knees and the blonde caught a glimpse of the track marks from years of using. "His uncle came downstairs. Found Liam and Ramon passed out in a corner. Amber was puking her guts out. And Royce?" A short little laugh crossed her mouth. "He wasn't moving, wasn't breathing."

A deep, shuddering breath hissed as Rae began to cry. "He'd overdosed on the cocaine we had. When Dr. Banks saw us, he didn't freak out like I expected. He calmly helped Amber swallow some medicine for her stomach and put her in a guest room. Liam and Ramon weren't stoned enough not to go home so they pulled on their jackets and left." Pausing, she wiped her nose on her arm.

Chloe handed her the box of tissues they kept on the coffee table.

With peanut-brittle eyes, Rae sniffled a thank you.

"He calmly called the paramedics, who pronounced him dead, and he sat with me while my mom answered questions from the police. She took one look at the body bag and broke down. Only time I ever saw my mom cry was when she saw the scars on my body." A dry laugh barked out of her dark lips. "After that, Dr. Banks convinced me to go see a therapist and helped me in rehab. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder." Her wet eyes blinked sadly.

"Rae, I-I—"

"No. Don't apologize. Truth be told, I deserve everything I got. I gave shit and I received it. But I'm better. I want to start new." When she shook her head, her braids flew everywhere. "I want to be your friend, Chloe. I don't want to be the crazy girl with a body full of scars and a needle in her arm." When she burst into more tears, Chloe wrapped an arm around her. "You're too kind."

"Y-you m-ma-ade a mis-istake," the blonde argued gently.

Rae didn't reply, only sat up and offered a watery smile and a Kleenex.

* * *

"He _what_?" Liz whispered brokenly, eyes wide and horrified.

Tori remained grim-faced.

Rae fidgeted. "Royce overdosed last year. I know because I was there. His death made me turn my life around and I-I…" She took a deep breath. "I want to apologize. I was a shitty friend with a shitty state of mind and I won't be surprised if you don't want me anymore."

Chloe was proud of Rae. Since she spilled the truth (confirmed by both Jacinda and a quiet-voiced Banks and the obituary records at the Malloys' funeral parlor), things had gone smoothly, without a single seam unraveling.

Rae moved into the guest room across from her and they'd unpacked the boxes of clothes and magazines, of trinkets gathered over the years.

Since there wasn't much room for her in the cottage, they'd decided that she'd live with Chloe and Lauren for the time being.

Right now, she looked like she was on the edge of being shattered into a million fragments, her toffee skin ashy and taut on her face. Her hands were gripping her skirt with a frightening force.

"I don't trust you," Tori stated finally, crossing her legs and flashing purple panties.

Chloe lowered her eyes, embarrassed.

"But we _will _accept you, of course, once you earn our trust," Liz quipped, laying a loving hand on Tori's sharp shoulder and they looked so weird together, like something out of a high school romance movie, the bubbly head cheerleader and the snarky computer rocker, but their personalities, although polar opposites, melded perfectly.

Rae sniffled and broke into a smile. "Of course," she breathed and Chloe grinned.

"Of course what?" someone asked behind them and she whipped around.

Kari, Beth and Nate stood behind them, Kari's bad sunburn making Beth seem even paler in comparison, and Nate's spiky red hair was like a beacon compared to Kari's golden dreads and Beth's curtain of ink.

"Nothing," Tori drawled, reclining slowly down on the grass and crossing her legs at the ankles.

They were all seated outside the public library, lounging in the grass as kids played in the park across the street, college students congregating on the wide, ivory steps in groups.

Chloe tilted her head back against the rays of sunlight, surveying her clique.

Rae, Tori and Liz wore skirts; Kari wore leggings with holes in the knees; Beth and Nate had on basketball shorts; and she herself wore jeans.

"I mean, _come on_, it's _so _not cold," Kari declared, dreadlocks bouncing as she flopped down beside Chloe unceremoniously and drew in the air with her finger.

"It's freezing," the curly-haired girl argued, wrapping her hands in Derek's sweatshirt as Nate slowly lowered himself to the ground and Beth followed suit, their shoulder touching.

Her stomach ached.

They were jostling each other, pushing in closer and closer, drowning her, crowing and she frantically made a decision.

"I've gotta go," Chloe stammered, pushing herself to her feet. A swelling rose in her throat, a tell tale sign. _Please, hold on, _she told herself fiercely.

Tori eyed her languidly.

Liz laughed at something Rae said.

"I've got…got stuff to do." Without another word, she fled.

* * *

Quiet as a mouse, Chloe stole into the untouched room. Everything was exactly as she remembered it. With every step, she felt all her worries melting away, dissolving. She ran a hand along her mother's vanity of dusty lipsticks and brushes and watched the particles swirl around her fingers. An ache washed over her fiercely and she bit her cheek to keep from crying out.

After her mother's death, Lauren had marched in and removed all pictures from the walls, replacing them with her own. Steve was too distraught to stop his sister in law but it was Chloe who'd jumped between her mother's (and, previously father's) room and wouldn't back down, regardless of Lauren's determination to rid herself of any painful reminders. Only when Chloe had screamed and threatened and argued herself hoarse did Lauren retreat.

A lifeless smile graced her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, blinking away the rapid onslaught of tears in her eyes, "I just felt…felt so trapped. Rae, Jacinda, Steve…everyone." Her legs crumpled and she hit the floor soundless, ignoring the dust that exploded around her in clouds. Slowly, she crawled close to her mother's bed and climbed up on it, nestling herself in the rumpled, stale bedsheets and comforters.

They smelled like lilac, still.


	4. Chapter 4

Blue &amp; Green

04

"A fox is a wolf who sends flowers."

The wedding would be in December.

Lots of Jacinda's family.

Most of Steve's family was dead, including his wife, his parents, and his daughter.

No, his daughter was right there, staring at her reflection in the bathroom.

Numbly, Chloe turned her head from side to side. She was gaunt-faced, with sad eyes and brittle hair. The image staring back had been the same for years, wasting away and it wasn't leaving.

She remembered a time where she would sit outside until her thighs were golden and then red, peeling with sunburn.

Sticky ice cream dribbling downs her fingers, licked away by the puppies she met on the pier.

Salty ocean waves hitting her feet, Derek beside her.

Tori's reluctant enjoyment during the water balloon fights with Liz and Simon.

Buttery, salty popcorn kernels caught between Chloe's teeth while they sat in the dark.

Sticky sweat making them grimy while they ran.

Playing in the trees, squealing when Derek scooped her up.

Tall, wet glasses of lemonade on the lawn.

She sighed tiredly and turned away from the sad-eyed girl in the mirror. Hair scraped her shoulders, painfully brittle.

"Chloe?" It was Rae, knocking quietly on the door.

Stomach twisting into knots, Chloe pulled open the bathroom door and forced a smile. Everything around her was breaking, shattering, but as long as she slapped on a smile and said, "I'm fine" enough, no one would ever know.

Rae's hair, now free of its braids, was pulled into a bun, pieces sticking up and that's when Chloe saw the red-purple hickey on her neck.

"Who?" The blonde's voice came out tiny and weak; she sounded pathetic, almost.

"No one." Rae's almond eyes dropped as she brushed passed the shorter girl. "At least, not officially," she added with a cheeky grin before closing the door.

_Not again, _Chloe thought quietly, _please don't let this turn out like Royce. _

Jacinda was in the kitchen planning the wedding invitations.

Cream envelopes, brown lacey trim, elegant handwriting.

_Dear _(whoever)_, you are invited to Jacinda Rodgers and Steve Saunders' wedding, December twenty-first. _

Something sour filled Chloe's mouth as she stood there, staring at the invitations. Her mind was shifting backwards.

_Tiny chubby hands gripping the edge of the counter, she balanced on the top of the chair. _

_Mommy was looking through old photos, pasting them and cutting them into funny shapes. Long strips of ribbon and lace were crumpled in piles, haphazardly placed around the table. _

_"Mommy," she called as she pushed her finger against the thick, beige envelopes, "what's that?" _

_Mommy looked up, smiling softly. _

_"Daddy and Mommy's wedding invitations. When you get married, you have to invite people." She pulled Chloe up onto her lap, pulling an envelope closer and popping the seal with her thumbnail. The smell of musty paper and old wax rose from the stack of invitations. _

_"Mommy, what does it say?" She was rocking excitedly. _

_Mommy laughed, ruffling her hair. "Dear Lauren Fellows, you are invited to Steve and—" _

"Chloe?"

The blonde blinked hard.

Bright fluorescent lights flickered above her, throwing the tan face staring up at her worriedly into dangerously sharp contrast.

"You okay?" Jacinda had paused mid-letter, ink soaking the paper, ruining it but all her attention was focused on Chloe.

Something sour burned in the girl's mouth as she forced her feet to move, pushing herself towards the backdoor. As she thrust the door open, she heard Rae's mom ask, "Where are you going?"

She couldn't have answered even if she wanted to.

* * *

She wandered. Her sneakers crunched gravel and leaves and mud. Her eyes took in the barren trees, grassy hills, long rivers; although, she hardly noticed any of it.

Everything was blurry through the permanent film of tears in her eyes. The icy wind pierced her skin, reminding of her lack of jacket or scarf, and she shivered, hugging herself tightly.

Seeing Jacinda sitting there in place of her mother, head bowed, long fingers writing the wedding invitations just like Jennifer did all those years ago, made something inside Chloe shatter, shards piercing.

Ducking under a low-hanging branch, she continued on.

Bugs crawled under her feet; birds sang lonely songs for each other, meant for only their ears; sunlight streamed down from between the long, gnarled branches.

In the forest, everything had melted away, all of her anxieties and the headaches and the sadness of her mother's death; all of it just vanished. Right now, it was just Chloe, the birds, and the trees.

Her breath escaped her lips in a transparent cloud as she shivered, wondering if Jacinda was even worried or if anyone even noticed she was gone.

She knew, without a doubt, that she was being biased towards the young woman who'd captured her father's broken heart and mended him but the raw pain of her mother's slow death was still fresh.

Years had done nothing to dull the pain, nothing to bring any sort of closure for her. Sure, Lauren and Steve had obviously moved on, taking down her photos and auctioning off her things.

The only thing Chloe had was that damn room.

Her foot missed a step and she slipped, landing hard enough on her ass to knock the breath from her lungs. Cold shock shot up her back as she realized she'd stepped off the embankment and was now tumbling down the incline.

It was a little exhilarating and scary, tumbling head-over-heels in an unknown place, not knowing what was at the bottom or if she would hurt herself terribly and end up on the news (_fifteen-year-old girl found dead_) but it was freeing, the rush of falling, everything leaving for sweet, ignorant moment.

She stopped after a long time, head spinning and her knee stinging. Twigs and leaves fell out of her hair, off her clothes. She sat up, blinking, disorientated.

It was a huge, silent clearing.

Lots of long, tall grass, the outskirts hugged by trees and hidden by their line, far off was some sort of pond and something lying on the ground.

Chloe got to her feet slowly, taking her time to brush the dead underbrush debris from her legs and hair. She calmly picked up her lost shoe (when had that happened?) and headed over to the water.

She was in the midst of kneeling down, staring at her reflection—bloodshot eyes, messy hair chunky with mud, scrapes and was that a twig in her bra strap?—when she heard a voice shout, "Hey!"

Turning so she could watch the person, she felt all fear vanish. It wasn't a murder or a man jerking off or a woman holding a knife.

It was Ramon, his hair slick and a towel around his neck, jeans clinging to his sharp legs, who asked, calmly, "Would you like some help?"

In all honestly, she should've said no, shouldn't have broke down.

But she did.

"Yes," she croaked, "If that's alright."

He held out a hand and smiled. "It is."


	5. Chapter 5

Blue &amp; Green

05

"If you live among wolves, you have to act like a wolf."

Ramon escorted her home after patching her scrapes with Neosporin and Band-Aids.

The sky was a gradient of purple, pink, red, and orange, with fluffy cotton candy pink clouds and a huge peep yellow ball sinking into the skyline. The air was cool and nipped at her skin like tiny slivers of glass, flushing her cheeks in a blood blush, freezing her fingertips into ice cubes.

Ramon let her borrow his jacket and it smelled like sweat and bonfire smoke, silky and sweet.

The walk back was quiet and cool, night slowly descending down over the sky, over the town, twinkling stars and a soft, lush moon.

Jets passed loudly overhead.

Kids chased each other, wearing t-shirts despite the chill in the air, and people in general milled about.

Mothers chattered with each other or played with the kids.

Fathers taught their kids to ride bikes and fixed their cars.

The smells of the bakeries filled the air with warm, gooey bread and sweets.

Stores played Christmas ads loudly, jingling bells and singing Hallelujahs.

"Almost Christmas, eh?" Chloe asked, burrowing herself deeper into his jacket.

His shoulder bumped hers and he flashed her a crooked grin; in the half-light of the streetlights, he looked handsome and youthful, with round cheeks and curls darker than ink.

"Yeah. Lots of time to spend with my boyfriend," Ramon sighed.

"Who is he?" She was curious.

"Simon."

She tripped over an uneven edge of the sidewalk and he caught her arm quickly, righting her.

Some kids on rollerblades swept passed them, kicking up dead leaves.

A cold gust of wind followed them.

"S-Simon?" she stuttered, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"Yeah. After Royce died, we bumped into each other at the cemetery and started talking about the dead." He gave a short, uneasy laugh. "Kind of weird to hook up but we actually bonded. I got the courage to ask him out, he said yes, and that's that. It was about four months ago." The smile on his mouth was cool and minty.

"So how'd you end up in the woods?" he asked, calmly, like it was casual question.

"My dad's getting remarried to Jacinda."

"Jacinda?" His voice echoed his disbelief.

"Yeah. She just…It reminded me of my mom so I just started w-walking."

They turned at the huge town square.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Losing someone you love."

"Yeah."

They walked in silence, and it was very, very nice.

* * *

It was dark outside, streetlights on, around fifty degrees outside, when Chloe opened the door to her house. Ramon had left, offering her his jacket, but she handed it back to him.

The house was dead silent.

Jacinda and Steve must've gone back to the cabin and Lauren was working another late shift.

The only people home were the dogs, Amber and Brady, who greeted her with wet noses, lots of kisses, and barking.

She peeled off her sneakers as she headed up the stairs, ignoring the jumping shadows and creaking wood.

She eased off her socks and stuffed them into her shoes. Her fly was unbuttoned, zipped down. Her shirt was pulled off as she opened her bedroom door. Her brain was sluggish, pushing her through the motions. Her shirt, jeans and bra hit the floor, replaced by pajamas. Eventually, she found the soft, downy comforter of her bed and flopped down onto it.

The dogs scratched at the back door downstairs so she dragged herself up and out of her room, snatching her bathrobe on the way down the steps. The grandfather clock in the kitchen struck midnight as she opened the door and waited for the dogs to pee. The trees hugging the yard swayed and shimmered in the breeze, casting wicked shadows onto the grass.

Amber waddled off towards the mulched flower garden. Brady sniffed around for the longest time.

Chloe shivered and rocked back and forth on her feet, trying hard not to just head back inside and leave them to their business. As tired as she was, she couldn't bear the idea of them sitting in the icy temperatures and freezing to death. So she sucked it up and cuddled herself.

Amber was the first one inside; squeezing passed the blonde's frozen legs. She squinted to see Brady and watched him square off with something in the woods.

A long, slow howl pierced the silent night.

Brady started barking like crazy, fur on end, and even Amber, sweet little Corgi Amber, had her hackles raised, teeth bared and black lips peeled back away from them.

"Brady!" Chloe called sharply to the huge, bulky German Shepard and his head whipped her way.

In the brush, she could see two glowing green eyes staring straight at her, and froze, mouth opening and closing.

She knew the town had werewolves (Ramon and Jacinda and Derek) but she'd never seen any, at least, not in wolf form.

They normally kept to themselves or to their packs and federal law stated that they keep a specific grounds set aside for pack runs.

"Brady!" she called again once she found her voice.

The two animals squared off for a little while longer before the wolf slinked into the yard, huge and black with green eyes just like Derek's, and then it was gone, racing back into the shadows of the trees.

Brady snarled and barked after it before heading back inside, licking the dirt from his paws as he slid into his bed.

She gave them some more water and each a treat and headed back upstairs but not before checking through all the rooms to make sure the windows were locked. She locked the front door and back door and, when she got into her room, locked the bathroom door, her bedroom door, and the window.

As she curled up under the cool blankets, struggling to stay warm and watching the lush moon outside, she had a brief thought.

_That was Derek, I'm sure of it. _


	6. Chapter 6

Blue &amp; Green

06

"I am not a wolf in sheep's clothing; I am a wolf in wolf's clothing."

Rays of early morning sunlight fell in slants across Chloe's lids and she stirred, hearing the dogs barking madly at nothing in particular. The girl in question pulled herself upright and stretched leisurely, first shaking her arms out and then her legs, arching her back off the bed. Bones popped and she groaned in relief, touching her toes to the floor below. Pushing her curls away from her face, she stumbled to the bathroom and inspected her sleepy face, creases from her pillowcase and frizzy hair knotted all over the place.

"I look horrible," she whispered to her sleep-tossed reflection, running the cold water over her half-awake hands.

The temperature shocked away the last wisps of her fatigue and she splashed her face, shivering. Once she was energized, she combed her hair out and brushed her teeth.

After that, she got dressed and crammed down a dry breakfast of cold chicken nuggets and headed out to town.

* * *

She ran into a guy at a local, popular pizzeria, carrying a mountain of hot pizza boxes into the kitchen area while a brown-haired guy manned the counter, carrying huge plates back and forth between costumers at the bar.

"Welcome to Carson and Company's Pizzeria," droned the pizza-carrying guy as a tiny, muscular redhead bounded out of the kitchen carrying a huge platter of food. She wheeled around him, wedged the door open with her heel, and then she was skipping to a table full of screaming kids and exhausted adults.

"Uh," Chloe managed to mutter.

The man looked at the counter looked up and smiled fondly. "What can I do for you?" he asked politely, clearing away some empty plates from the counter. She squirmed under his calm, knowing gaze and looked away.

A dark-haired customer smiled at her and then took his leave.

"Hey, stop flirting with jail bait," said the guy who'd carried the boxes as he came out carrying a red bag, tucking his hair into a black baseball cap with the logo stitched across the bill. He slowed considerably when he noticed Chloe. There was something familiar about his predatory gait, his broad shoulders. He shifted the bill out of his eyes and his eyes met hers, pure, acidic green.

"D-Derek?" she squeaked in surprise and pulled away, stumbling into someone heading outside.

"Hey, watch it," the person she bumped into snarled as he twisted away and shouldered passed her.

Wincing, she stepped out of the way and Derek wrapped his fingers around her biceps, steadying her. Her face heated like a stove-top viciously, painfully, and she pulled away, wide-eyed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, keeping one hand on her arm in case she stumbled and brought down several bystanders with her.

"Oh, um, I just…" She trailed off as she tugged at her hair, twirling the ends around her finger.

"I'm heading out," he said to the man at the counter.

"Chloe, Andrew. Andrew, Chloe."

A huge smile split Andrew's weathered face and left her feeling a bit awkward.

She smiled shyly, nervously, but his smile never faltered.

"I-I should go," she sputtered as she backed up and then turned, all but running out of the restaurant.

He made her feel flayed open, as though he was picking her apart piece by piece, examine the gears inside her that made her the girl she was.

She had the prickling sensation that he would chop her up and experiment if he had the chance.

Hopefully, he'd never get it.

* * *

It was nearing mid-afternoon when Andrew dropped by, unannounced, unexpectedly. He was dressed casual, a button-down and slacks where as she had just gotten done with a run, sweat-soaked tank and baggy shorts, towel draped over her shoulders.

"Is your aunt home?" he asked.

"Um," Chloe muttered, unsure of how to approach him without letting him know how terrified he made her.

His smile broadened a tiny bit, as though he was enjoying her internal monologue, as though he were a predator tasting her fear.

"Why do you need her?" she asked sharply.

His eyes roamed upwards to her face, that grin never slipping. "I have some files for her. We work at the same hospital."

"I thought you ran the pizzeria." Her eyebrows rose.

He snorted, amused. "That's a hobby. I'm a mortician," he said, waving a few files at her with big, red _jane doe_ stamped across the folder. "She has horrible handwriting," he laughed.

Chloe squirmed.

"Did you just come back from a run?" He leaned against the door frame, one foot tucked into the space between the edge of the door and the frame to keep her from closing it—she was certain of it.

Her faint unease rose painfully, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. Fear prickled behind her eyes as he dipped his head down.

"Oh, um, y-yes," she squeaked and his gaze dropped low, all over her body. "I-I have to go," she blurted, even though it was a lie.

His eyes slide back to hers and it was clear he didn't buy it.

"Alright," he said and his head nodded as he turned tail and jogged down the brick steps. She watched him weave down the driveway, whistling "Mr. Sandman" as he went.

Chloe closed the door and backed away after she slid the deadbolt to the locked position.

From the window next to the door, she sat there, curled up with her knees against her chest, waiting for her aunt to come home.

If she told her aunt about Andrew, she was certain Lauren would make a big deal and freak out. Besides, it was probably her imagination playing tricks her, making her see a threat that wasn't at all present in such a sweet guy.

Still, her mouth tasted like blood and she was prickled all over, hair standing on end.

"Chloe," her aunt cried when she unlocked the front door and stepped inside, clasping at her chest.

Chloe jerked at the words, waking immediately, and she toppled off the ledge.

"What's wrong?" she demanded once she helped her niece up onto her feet.

"Oh, um, it was s-so nice and su-unny that I de-decided to relax in the sun. I must've fallen a-asleep," the blonde lied, her voice shaking with every word.

Lauren squinted. "Go get ready for dinner," she said with pursed lips. She shook the bag in her hand.

Chloe smiled shakily and headed upstairs.

"Thanks."


	7. Chapter 7

Blue &amp; Green

07

"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."

After Chloe met Andrew, she began to notice him everywhere.

Outside of school, sitting in his car while he smoked a cigarette and read the paper.

In the little bistro where she worked part-time as a waitress.

Tailing her in the super market when she went shopping.

It gave her the creeps, making the tops of her thighs and arms break out in goosebumps. As freaked out as she was, she didn't tell anyone. She figured it was her overactive imagination; now that she knew him, she could see his face everywhere everyone went, pointing him out easily.

Lauren was in high spirits, prancing about the house while she put on earrings and wiggled into heels every night, claiming to be going to the hospital but Chloe had a very strong sense that she was flat-out lying; why else would a neurosurgeon wear heels and little dresses to a _hospital_, where she would be exposed to blood and gore and feces? Why else would she put on a full face of makeup and jewelry? There would be no reason.

"I'm going to be late tonight," Lauren said to her, clicking across the kitchen, adjusting her breasts in her low-cut dress while she put in her earrings, hanging low to her shoulders, swishing with every step. Her hair fell in loose curls around her face, making it softer than ever, hanging to mid-breast in soft ringlets. The apples of her cheeks were rosy, red even, but Chloe couldn't figure out whether or not it was from blush or excitement.

The blonde looked up from her homework, something with lots of numbers and letters and equations, and blinked a few times at her aunt. "You aren't really going to the hospital, are you?" she muttered, clenching her jaw against the panic rising in her at the idea of being home alone with Andrew on the prowl still and forcing herself to meet her aunt's wide eyes.

"Of course I am," Lauren snapped, closing her clutch tightly with a pinched expression on her face.

Chloe shot her a dubious look as her aunt turned on her heel and walked away.

"I'll be home later," she said briskly and the door slammed shut behind her, making the windowpanes rattle.

The house was silent and a chill rolled up Chloe's spine, making her tuck her legs in close against her chest. She rested her chin against her knees and set down her pencil, unable to concentrate on the scrambled rows of equation after equation.

Her brain was too full of Andrew, his hungry expression taking up most of his face, always sucking his lip into his mouth whenever she noticed him.

His dark eyes encased in crow's feet, too lustful to be staring at a fifteen year old girl, barely in high school, young enough to be his daughter.

No matter how much he freaked her out, she refused to make a big deal out of probably nothing.

Plus, Lauren hadn't seen anyone in years since Chloe's parents had married, as though she would punish Jennifer with her loneliness and snarky jabs, so she deserved to be kind of happy.

"Grow up," she grumbled to herself, pushing away from the table to stuff her feet into her shoes.

She'd go for a walk, maybe drop by Walgreens for some more pens or something, to clear her head, pushing out all the scrambled thoughts revolving around that creepy Andrew and his leering.

_A walk it is then, _she decided, nodding her head to herself.

She was out the door a few minutes later.

* * *

By the time she stopped walking, her legs were jelly and her feet ached in the arches. Sweat was plastered to her skin, making her shirt sticky, her thighs chafed, and her bra soaked. Her jeans were dark with sweat and her hair hung damp and lank in her eyes, clinging to her face.

A cool breeze ran down the street as she turned on the corner and spotted her house at the very tale end of the cul-de-sac.

Her aunt's red Sudan was in the driveway but behind it was a shiny black GMC that Chloe didn't recognize at all.

A cold dread cloaked her shoulders, starting from the top of her head, making her skin prickle, and ran down, even to her toes.

Something bad was going to happen.

As she walked quickly, she noticed how dark it was outside, the sky nearly purple-blue, streetlights on, and a few cars illuminating the cross section with white headlights.

A few kids played football in one of the yards and raced on scooters into the street, careless to the dangers.

Squinting, she realized she could hardly see them and picked up her pace.

Down the street, a few cul-de-sacs over, some dogs barked.

Car doors slammed.

A kid rushed passed her, intent on catching the spiraling football she hadn't seen arching through the air.

Chloe bit her lip to keep from crying as the dread balled up inside the pit of her belly, hard and cold as a bite of ice cream. Despite the hot weather, she felt very cold and hugged herself, picking up her pace again, nearly jogging now.

Dead leave scraped against the asphalt behind her, sending her heart skittering into over drive and then she broke into a full-out sprint, her Walgreens bag hitting her hip the entire way. Despite having walked nearly four miles, she could push the pain in her feet and gelatin sensation in her muscles to the back of her mind.

She passed the cluster of football kids and one of them wolf-whistled at her; much to her gratefulness, the darkness hid her bright red cheeks, which felt like giant targets on her face for more harassment.

When Chloe finally reached the door, she heard her aunt's loud laugh and closed her shaking hand around the doorknob, forcing herself to turn it and hear the click and open it.

The smell of food assaulted her and she nearly tripped over the men's loafers in the doorway.

A blazer hung on the coat pegs—that didn't belong to either of them, shoulders too wide, and who wore shoulder pads still?

"I-I'm home," she called, her voice hoarse and a bit shrill.

The laughter stopped abruptly, although there were a few giggles still, and then Lauren came out of the TV room, barefoot, a wine glass in her trembling hand. Her lipstick was smudged and her hair was in clumpy curls now.

She yanked up the front of her dress and stepped forward, smiling like a maniac.

Chloe inched to the base of the stars, placing her hand on the banister, and one foot on the bottom step.

"Lauren, who is it?" That was a man's voice.

Chloe glanced at Lauren quickly, and then turned her attention to the figure walking up behind her aunt.

Thin, brown hair with a receding hairline, almost olive skin, and a kind smile which quickly vanished into the creepiest grin Chloe could think of ever seeing.

"Oh! This is my…my friend, Andrew Carson." Lauren wrapped an arm around his waist, smiling.

Andrew leered.

Chloe dropped the bag and vomited all over Andrew's expensive loafers.


	8. Chapter 8

Blue &amp; Green

08

"Blue, green, grey, white, or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent."

Andrew made a face of uttermost disgust when Chloe straightened up from vomiting, Lauren already at her side, shifting into Doctor Mode as she pulled back Chloe's sweaty hair, damp already with perspiration.

"Will Chloe be okay?" he asked.

Lauren frowned. "Probably. Would you get her a new shirt or something from her room?"

"What are..." Chloe squeaked, horror dawning on her face.

"I've really gotta go," Andrew said, red-faced, stumbling for the front door, and a balmy breeze cooled the sweat on Chloe's face.

The minute the door closed behind him, the blonde girl quickly said, "Aunt Lauren, I know you like him and stuff but he's…" She paused, torn between letting her aunt know, or stay the dark and be blissfully happy.

"I don't think I want him coming around here anymore," Lauren stated.

"Why?"

"Did you see the way he was _looking _at you? I think I can get your uncle to dig up this guy. How'd he even know your name?" The surgeon turned away, ready to head upstairs, motioning for her niece to follow.

"He's been following me all week," Chloe blurted out, clenching her hands into fists. "I-I met him before, at this pizza place my friend works at, a-and after, I kept s-seeing h-him—Andrew, not my f-friend—everywhere I went, the grocery store, outside of the school, outside that little café."

She sniffled, attempting to suck up the thick mucus that had begun to run down her nose, down her chin as she struggled to keep it together. "I-I didn't wa-want to wo-orry you, not when y-you ob-obvious-sly found some-some-someon-one who t-took an in-int-tere-est in you. I-I tho-thought I ju-just noticed hi-im because I kn-knew him no-ow," she managed to choke out passed her chattering teeth and near hysterical sobbing.

Lauren stared at Chloe like she'd grown a second head. "Honey, why would you _ever _think I didn't want to hear about your troubles? I'm here for you, man in my life or no man." She smiled, sadly, as she took in Chloe's vomit-stained shirt and helped her up. "But, first, let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

Chloe's uncle, Lauren's brother, Ben, worked as a police officer, mainly doing SVU cases like child molestation and human trafficking.

Chloe felt sick with fear and panic.

What if Andrew found out that she'd gotten the police involved and came after her?

What if the kids at school found out and spread it around that she was into creepy old men?

What if _Derek _found out and hated her?

What if he didn't believe her?

She must've looked close to hyperventilating because Lauren forced her into a chair and Ben brought her one of those little plastic Dixie cups of water to keep her calm.

When she finally quit panicking, she looked up into her uncle's familiar blue eyes, eerily reminiscent of her mom's, and blurted, a short gasp, "I have a stalker. I-It's this old guy I know, kind of, and he follows me ev-everywhere and he's really creepy and I do-don't want to ever s-see hi-im."

She grabbed her legs and tugged them against her chest, taking another sip of the cup.

The water slid down her throat, soothing her tight throat, and she relaxed as Ben got to her level, squatting like talking to a small child.

"Does this man have a name? Has he tried anything? How long has this been going on?" Question, after question, and she answered them all—yes, it's Andrew Carson, not really but he saw Aunt Lauren, and a couple of weeks—in, what she felt was, record speed. Ben jotted all her answers down on a notepad, the landline phone cradled to his ear, speaking rapid-fire to someone on the other end.

"Uh huh," he muttered, unplugging his pen cap with his teeth as he bounced from foot to foot anxiously.

She watched him, the wave of his curls, glossy with the gel he always used to keep it out of his face, his eyes lidded and concentrated on his paper, lips disappearing into the span of hair surrounding his jaw.

"Thank you. So it'll be here in a bit. Okay, thank you."

Once the phone was back in its cradle, he smiled at her, albeit it was strained at the edges and fissured with a bit of anger-tinged concern, and explained, "We can't do much, but we've put out a notice for him." When she shot him a wide-eyed look, he explained that they'd keep an eye on this man.

"Hey, Chloe!"

She spun around, wide-eyed, to find Liz, Derek and, damn it all, _Carson. _Her stomach dropped to the bottom of her toes and she shot to her feet violently, her heart hammering as sweat broke out across her skin.

"He's here," she hissed to her uncle, who'd barely even glanced at the group, but once she said that, he was staring intently at all three.

"The younger guy?"

Another almost undiscernible shake.

Finally, his eyes zeroed in on Andrew, who looked a bit pained and uneasy being around so many cops.

"Hey, Chloe," Derek said and swept her up into his arms, which was a shock considering he hated contact, and spun her around.

She laughed uneasily, and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his; despite being in his arms, where she could normally forget her problems and feel comfortable, she felt uneasy and grimy.

"Andrew?" Ben asked.

Chloe forgot how to breathe.

"Stay the _fuck _away from my niece," he snarled harshly.

Andrew shook his head and smiled nervously. Sweat ran down his face. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stated quietly, eyes on the floor, "but I'll be sure to follow your instructions."

"Andrew?" Derek asked.

"Just a misunderstanding," the older man said, but his eyes were on Chloe, her eyes wide and pale with fear.


	9. Chapter 9

Blue &amp; Green

09

"Why did you make your people lambs, when the world is full of wolves?"

A month passed by without word of Andrew. He left her alone and avoided her at the pizzeria. He didn't follow her to school, to the bistro, to the super market.

At first, she didn't believe her uncle's reassurances and remained on edge, looking over her shoulder all the time, expecting to see the leering smile and glassy eyes.

Every car driving by made her heart thump faster, thinking it to be Andrew's car.

Whenever she saw a balding, paunchy man, she panicked, only to realize the face was all wrong, cheeks too thin, eyes too widely-spaced apart, nose too large, jowls too low on his chin.

But as the weeks crawled by, she slowly realized he wasn't coming after her. If he did, she was certain that her uncle would beat the shit out of him. She stopped looking over her shoulder; she didn't freak out over the rumble of engines or panic over balding men.

Jacinda married Steve but Chloe had fallen sick, so Lauren kept her home.

Rae videotaped the whole thing and showed Chloe it once they got home.

The venue they'd picked was pretty and natural, with long strings of white flowers hanging overhead of the space. Women in pink dresses lined the steps and drank champagne from flute glasses. Men in tuxes fidgeted and talked among each other. Guests in wide-brimmed hats and suits crowded the white-and-pink chairs on the bride's side. Leaves and flower petals rained down on the wedding goers, creating a peaceful, dreamlike visage.

Her dad stood up on the top step, tugging at his sleeves and adjusting his collar, red-faced. It was like he'd never been married.

Eventually, the brides' maids and grooms' men faced forward and a song came on; The Wedding March played as the guests quieted and all turned. The camera shook a bit and a man's side came into view. He was heavyset and black, with a clean-shaven head and a thick, braided beard. A woman, taller than the man beside her, was dressed in all-white, a flowing dress with a mermaid cut that accented her figure, veil covering her face. Her long braids had been undone and her hair was twisted into an intricate French braid instead, swaying behind her with every step.

The woman leaned down, kissed the man on the cheek, and ghosted along the rest of the aisle. It was Jacinda. When she reached Chloe's dad, she smiled brightly, which Chloe could see clearly despite the veil over her face, and took his hands in hers.

A short, skinny minister read their vows and Chloe dug her fists into her ribs until they hurt. She zoned out for most of them but she heard the man say, "…man and wife. You may kiss the bride." She watched as Jacinda smiled and leaned down to kiss her new husband.

Chloe turned away as they kissed and thought about his first wedding. It had been an autumn wedding, with red, orange, brown, yellow leaves kicking up in the wind. A mist blew around them. The bride's gown got ruined because it started to rain and she was in the middle of laughing when her groom kissed her.

"Do you miss your dad?" she asked Rae, who sat cross-legged to pop the DVD out of the DVD player.

Rae looked over her shoulder. "Yeah, I guess." She frowned. "It wasn't like he was ever really there to begin with though. I mean, how can you miss someone you never met?"

They were both very quiet until someone knocked on the door and Rae got to her feet to answer it while Chloe turned on the regular TV and flicked through the channels. She heard a car speeding down the street, tires screeching, the door open, close, and Rae's heavy footsteps.

"Chloe?" the dark-skinned girl called.

Chloe looked up to find Rae's confused face. "What?"

Without another word, Rae pushed a crushed envelope at the blonde, who took it questioningly.

"What is it?"

Rae shrugged and walked into the kitchen to go fix something to eat.

Chloe rolled her eyes and read the messy, almost childish scrawl that stated her name. Smudges of dirt stained the envelope. Using her thumbnail, she wedged it open and peered inside. A piece of paper was folded inside.

"Do you want anything?" Rae asked from the kitchen.

"No!" Chloe yelled back and unfolded the letter.

_Peach is your color.  
_

Those four words made her eyes burn. She was wearing a peach-colored hoodie, but she hadn't left the house at all today. Immediately, her eyes shifted to the bay windows that overlooked the living room, where several children played hockey and rolled by on roller blades and a girl jogged around the circle and headed back out. Her stomach rolled as she searched for Andrew's car, listened for the rumbling engine, and pressed a hand hard against her mouth to stifle the gasps that threatened to slide out of her. The paper in her hand quivered violently and she doubled over to stop shuddering.

"Chloe? Are you okay?" Rae's voice drifted from the kitchen's open doorway, carrying the smell of re-heated taco meat.

Chloe stuffed the letter underneath the couch. It couldn't be him, she decided as she straightened up. "Yeah, I was just untying my shoes because it's hard to take them off," she lied and was proud when her voice didn't shake in the slightest.

"Oh. Want some tacos?" Her black step-sister was already turning back towards the kitchen, hand on her stomach.

"No thanks. I'm gonna go take a shower before Lauren comes home and uses all the hot water," the blonde said and slid the note out from under the couch.

Rae's laugh followed Chloe up the stairs and into her room, where her numb fingers ripped up the letter and buried the pieces underneath the trash at the bottom of her trashcan. _It's not him, _she told herself fiercely as she sifted through the wild mess of her underwear and socks and picked out a clean pair of socks and panties.

Once she gathered her clean outfit, she headed into the bathroom but not before she scanned the cul-de-sac for that shiny, black GMC and closed her blinds. _Nothing, _she thought and forced his leering smile from her mind.


	10. Chapter 10

Blue &amp; Green

10

"Fear is the mother of foresight."

In the morning, the day after she received the first letter, came another, on stained yellow notepad paper. _I love your hair when it gleams in the sun. _She crammed it into a box under her bed with shaking hands and a mouth full of bile. Her stomach was aching as she walked downstairs and nibbled on burnt toast, unable to stomach much else, but that came up again almost immediately. After she brushed the bitter taste of vomit out of her mouth, she glanced outside, not seeing the black car.

If he wasn't in the cul-de-sac, where was he? Hiding in a van? The idea of him watching her from a van, maybe even hooking up cameras in her house, made her shiver.

The house was silent, except for the quiet creaking of the old foundation settling; no one else was home except her and every noise made her jump, every car door slamming made her jerk, every yell made her skin crawl. She hadn't been this jumpy for a while and it was kind of funny to her how easily her imagination could run away with her.

Having had enough of the spooks, Chloe grabbed a heavy jacket, her wallet and her phone before she headed out the garage, dragging her bicycle out from behind some boxes of her dad's musty jackets. Maybe a bike ride to Derek's house would help.

* * *

Derek didn't answer the door; instead, a girl with long, blonde hair and big, grey eyes answered. She had half her hair up in a bun and was holding a box of hair dye.

"Oh, u-um," Chloe squeaked, stepping away, "h-hi. I-is um Derek here?"

"So you're Chloe," the blonde girl said flatly, tilting her head a bit and eyeballing Chloe in a manner that left the strawberry blonde a bit unnerved. "Derek isn't in, but I'll tell you dropped by."

"Ah, okay," Chloe managed.

"Lighten up, would ya?" the girl suddenly laughed, a smile breaking across the calm on her face as she lunged at Chloe and swept her up into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm Liz. You've grown up, Chloe! You have boobs now too!"

"L-Liz? Delaney?" Chloe asked, blinking as she rubbed her sore ribs. Last time she saw Liz, the other girl was half a foot shorter and about seventy pounds skinnier. Now she was a knockout, with muscular thighs and a butterscotch tan and a nose ring.

"Yup. Derek really isn't here though. He said he had to work or something. But come in! Tori and Simon are here. Guys!"

The mood change made Chloe pause.

"Oh, I wanted to see how you'd react to a rough-and-tough me. Guess you really are the same. So meek, so demure," Liz giggled as she laced her fingers through Chloe's and tugged her into the house.

"Who says demure anymore?" Tori asked as she stepped away from a chair next to the sink, holding a black plastic bowl and a hair dye application brush. "Oh, hey. Derek's working until three," she informed Chloe.

Liz set down the box of hair dye, which made Tori groan.

"What're you doing with your little blue hands all over her? Stop that and come sit before you ruin something," she demanded and Liz skipped over, dragging Chloe with her. "Drop, Liz."

Obediently, Liz dropped Chloe's hand and instead played a little bit in a puddle of water on the counter, dragging her finger through it in a circular motion. "Tori's dying my hair for me since my mom finally said yes," she explained. "What's been going on in your life?"

"M-my dad got married to Jacinda. You know, Rae's mom. And Royce apparently overdosed. Rae's taking meds too," Chloe said in a rush, unable to keep it off her chest. "And my dad never told me until I went to his cabin and she _answered _the door."

Liz started sputtering indignantly. "That's—how could he—Rae's mom—she ruined the funeral!" she managed to yell and stated to move, which in turn made Tori swear at her as a glob of blue paste ran down Liz's neck.

"Sit still unless you wanna become a part of the Blue Man group!" Tori snapped and Liz froze like a statue, making faces at Chloe.

"Yeah," Chloe laughed. A car door slammed somewhere close by and her skin tightened, goosebumps breaking out across the surface. Her scalp tingled. Her entire body flushed with cold as she licked her dry lips and glanced out the window.

A red pickup sat at the curb of someone's house, a handyman services' logo across the side doors. No black GMC. Despite seeing no car, her skin continued to prickle and she borrowed one of Derek's sweatshirts since she knew he wouldn't care, but it didn't ward off the cold in her veins.

"You look really pale, Chloe. Are you feeling okay?" Liz asked, turning to face her after Tori finished applying the hair dye and was washing out the container under the tap. Liz's grey eyes stared at Chloe steadfastly.

"Nah, I'm feeling a bit stuffy," Chloe lied quietly, unable to bring up the sensitive topic of Andrew's stalking.

Liz pursed her lips. "You better not get me sick, girl," she said.

Chloe managed a weak laugh and disguised it by coughing. "I think I'm gonna head home," she managed, trying her best to sound nasally. _He can't get to you, _she told herself as she hugged Liz and Tori and headed back home on her bike. The wind stung her cheeks and numbed her fingers but she found she couldn't care any less.

When she got home, she placed her bike in the garage and realized there were three notes sitting in the cup holder on the handlebars of her bike. The first one had a ring from a coffee cup, browning the paper. The ink was blue and in the same shaky penmanship as before.

_That's a very nice bike you have, _it read with a smiley face at the bottom.

The next one was on a crumpled sheet of notebook paper. It seemed sloppier than the first, with tears all over it like whoever had written it had borne down too hard. _You'd look even better with blue streaks. It would bring out your freckles. _

Her stomach turned.

The last one was the worst, honestly; the paper was fancy, like it was from a stationary, and the penmanship was careful, deliberately attempting to be smoother than the rest.

_You never told me Derek was your boyfriend. Such a naughty girl; I should punish you. _

Chloe quickly folded the letters, checked the cul-de-sac for his black GMC and then hurried into the house, locking all the doors, drawing the blinds, and locking the windows. _It's probably someone just fucking with me, _she thought frantically as she closed her curtains and put the letters in the box under her bed.

_It's not him. _


	11. Chapter 11

Blue &amp; Green

11

"Let me never fall into the vulgar mistake of dreaming that I am persecuted whenever I am contradicted."

Try as she might, Chloe couldn't push the notes out of her mind. Her stomach rolled at the idea of Andrew in her house, in her _garage_, hastily placing the notes.

_Not him, _she thought frantically as she threw her hair up in a ponytail. _Not, not, not. He can't. He wouldn't. Ben would beat the shit out of him if he tried. _

She wiped the sweat out of her eyes as she stood on her tiptoes to grab the guitar out of her closet. God knew she hadn't touched the thing in, what, three years? Maybe more, but she needed a reprieve for her spiraling thoughts and this seemed to do just the thing.

Chloe's fingers touched the cool fabric of the case and she tightened her fingers more, focusing to get a better grip on it. The case was a lot dustier than she expected and she found herself sneezing in rapid succession, sending herself stumbling into her night stand, the corner jabbing painfully into the back of her knee.

"Fuck!" she yelped.

"What about fucking?" Derek's voice laughed as he came in.

She spun around, nearly dropping the case, and limped towards him as pitifully as she could. "I said fuck, not fucking," she explained, pursing her lips as she set down the case on her rumpled bed while trying her best not to look in his eyes.

_Fucking _and _Derek _would be a lovely thing, but not today. Wiping her nose with her sleeve, she headed over to him. "How'd you get in?" she asked, peering around him.

His side pressed against her shoulder and she couldn't help but lean against him.

"Um, the front door was unlocked," he replied, turning to stare down at her.

A chill rand down her spine. "Un...locked?" she managed around the rapidly-growing lump in her throat as she pushed past him frantically. Her stomach twisted. "Unlocked?" she repeated, her voice shrill enough to hurt her own ears as she raced down the hallway.

"What's wrong? Didn't you leave it unlocked?" he called after her as she tore down the staircase, ignoring when she missed a step and landed on her ass in favor of climbing to her feet desperately.

_Please, please, no, _she thought as she neared the door and studied the deadbolt; it was unlocked. Her stomach dropped as her shaking hands gripped the doorknob and twisted it to the left. The door stuck a little but gave way with a few tugs and she looked at the front of the door.

A single slip of paper, folded in half horizontally, was taped in the center of the door.

Vomit filled her mouth as she ripped it down and unfolded it. Sweat beaded her skin as her blurry eyes focused on the words.

_You really should be careful who knows where your spare key is, Chloe. Such cute little stuffed animals you have. You should pick up your room; it's absolutely filthy, and maybe dust that woman's room, the one that smells like lilac. Your mother's old room, right? _

A heavy hand touched her shoulder and she screamed, surprising herself and Derek, who stepped back, hands up in the universal surrender gesture.

Blood pulsed in her ears.

"Are you okay? You seem really jumpy and you look like you're gonna faint," he said and then noticed the paper in her hands. "What's that?"

"Oh," she heard herself mutter numbly, "just a little note. I don't know who it's from; they never leave a name."

"They never...what the hell, Chloe? Lemme see it." His rough hands touched hers and took the note from her.

She couldn't even blink; it was like her body was disconnected from her brain. Sure, she could talk and breathe but her limbs felt heavy like weights and waves of rippling nausea draped over her, threatening the contents of her stomach to make a reappearance.

There was along stretch of silence. Shadows crept out from the corners of her eyes slowly. Her stomach settled down but she still felt sick; her mouth tasted bitter and sour like bile and her throat burned as though she'd vomited.

A paper crinkled.

Derek's green eyes materialized in front of her face, worry making his skin white, his nostrils flared and his fat eyebrows drawn over his deep-set eyes. Was he angry? Was he scared? "Chloe, this guy...he's sick," he said slowly, like he was testing out the words before speaking them, and something warm cupped her neck, a smaller appendage touching her cheek.

It was his hand, she realized belatedly, and, despite the horror, her body thrummed at the sensation of his skin on hers, so intimately. He was still speaking and she had to concentrate to focus on the words, not just the rumble of his voice.

"This guy's pyscho. We gotta tell your uncle," he told her, and she breathed in deep, her lungs burning with the oxygen. Huh, she must've been holding her breath. How very YA-romance-novelesque of her.

And then what he'd said sank in. _Tell your uncle. _

"It's just some kids," she argued faintly, reaching for the paper, at least she _thought _she was reaching for the paper. Her hand stayed at her side, limp and heavy. Her fingers were cold and prickly, pens and needles.

"Chloe, this guy's been in your _room. _Looked through your shit. Been in your _mom's _room," Derek protested, his lips peeling back, and a fleck of spittle hit the corner of her mouth.

She couldn't help but dart her tongue put to wet her mouth before she spoke. The saliva on her lips didn't keep her voice from being raspy. "Derek, it's not—" she tried.

"_Bullshit, Chloe!" _he bellowed and she shrank back. His harsh expression softened, melted. "Oh, Chloe," he moaned as he drew closer and pulled her tight against him.

Tears ran down her face.

"Please,Chloe...I can't let this go by. I'll be damned if I let this creep hurt you."

It was the emotion in his voice, the utter heartbreak, that moved her.

She pressed a hand against his cheek. "I...I have a box. Let me go get them."

He dropped a kiss tot he top of her head. "Alright. I'll call Lauren and let her know."

Her stomach still hurt.


	12. Chapter 12

Blue &amp; Green

12

"If you live among wolves, you have to act like a wolf."

The police station was relatively slow-paced today, with few and far pickups.

Chloe pressed herself hard into Derek's side, breathing in the slight stench of his BO. His arm was looped around her shoulders, running his fingers through her flat hair, twirling the ends around the tip of each of his fingers.

"It's okay," he whispered against the top of her head.

She nodded absently as she watched her aunt speak to her uncle in quiet tones, her hand swinging back to their direction sometimes. Even though she knew she was being silly, she couldn't help but flinch every time.

Aunt Lauren straightened, turned on her heel, and strode over to them. Behind her, Chloe could see her uncle's thunderous expression, black anger darkening his eyes, the thin set of his lips shadowed by the shadow from his beard.

Chloe's face felt hot as a spike of fear, burning, rushed through her hot enough to make her sweat. Her stomach twisted as she squeezed Derek's hand as hard as she could, her breath rattling like a winter breeze in her lungs. Rivulets of sweat wet the back of her shirt.

"It's okay," Derek murmured in her ear, dragging his nose across her temple in an undeniably lupine gesture, his low rumble soothing the fear that had bloomed. His hand dragged up and down her arm, his skin hot against the goosebumps-ridden skin of her bicep, and her anxiety inched back down.

She nodded, swallowing hard, and stepped away from him. Without him by her side, she could feel the panic creeping up once again, making her stomach tight. She was a big girl, and, while having her rock at her side made it exponentially easier to push aside her fear and anxiety, she needed to be strong and face this head-on.

The first step wobbled, her knees threatening to give out, and she felt the lightest brush of Derek's hand against her back. His presence soothed the raw fear inside of her, a balm against her frayed nerves, and she took a breath, holding it until her pulse pounded behind her ears, loud enough to drown out low, gravelly tones of Derek's familiar voice.

Another step, her knees seizing and then relaxing. Derek's hand dropped away. She blew out the breath, her lungs burning as pressure swirled behind her eyes; that helped focus her thoughts and push down her anxiety so she could concentrate without sinking into a full-blown panic attack.

Every step made her feel like she was being ripped apart; half of her wanted to run all the way home and hide under the covers, and the other half wanted to make him pay for what he was doing to her. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she steeled her wavering nerves and exhaled slowly as she reached out, blindly, and wrapped her fingers around the back of the chair.

"Chloe, I'm going to get something to drink for Derek and I. Do you want anything?" Aunt Lauren asked quietly, her narrow eyes gentle and shining bright with concern.

Chloe scarcely managed a smile that felt more like a grimace, her lips stretched too tight and wide across her teeth, and her aunt's face softened incrementally. Her hands were shaking too hard and her skin felt itchy and cold, making her fidget. "I'm fine, Aunt Lauren," she lied.

Her aunt, for her part, didn't look convinced, but, thankfully, didn't pursue the issue. Instead, she leaned down, kissed Chloe firmly and gently on the forehead, and swept away, her scrubs swishing the entire way.

Biting the inside of her lip until she tasted blood, the strawberry-blonde flopped into the seat and hid her shaking hands underneath her thighs. A stiff, unnatural smile stretched across her mouth, and her uncle's returned smile was just as tight, his lips quivering against his gums, and his eyes too dark for the smile to reach them. In the blue-gray of his irises was a sort of age-old darkness, a crushing kind of depression.

"Chloe, I never thought—" he tried, but his voice was weak and cracked. He licked his lips, his tongue swiping across the rough, cracked surface, and his eyes darted over to the box where Derek had set it down, flowing to the brim with letter after letter.

He swallowed and tried again. "I never thought I'd have to play the cop with you, kiddo," he laughed meekly, "but I'm glad—I'm glad it's me. I'm glad you can trust me. This guy, Chloe, we don't think it's Carson; the handwriting doesn't match up and Carson's too spooked of his own shit to even think about trying anything again."

Chloe's blood thundered as her breath caught in her throat with a little click. Her hands, which had been starting to go numb, shook so bad she was worried she was having a seizure. Any thoughts in her brain hit a brick wall and the only thing she could think of was _oh my god, it's not him. Not him. Not him._

Her stomach rolled and she felt the hot acid of bile eating a hole in her throat. She swallowed hard, praying she didn't fall apart right then and there. Her vision blurred with hot tears, dripped down her cheeks, despite her prayer to not break into a thousand pieces.

Uncle Ben's rough, warm hands touched her cheeks and wiped away the tears streaking down her face. She opened her mouth, her lips dry and sticky, but all that come out were little squeaks and this weird, long wail that made every head turn to her.

A thousand bricks crashed down on her as she collapsed against her uncle, wrapping her arms around his thin frame to pull him closer, and, somewhere in the back of her mind, she could feel Derek's soothing presence behind her, touching her back, and just the light touch made her knees buckle and she fell to the floor.

"My baby," Aunt Lauren murmured as she set down the cups when she walked in and wrapped her arms around Chloe, embracing both her niece and her sister's twin brother.


End file.
